


Slosh

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Drinking, Established Relationship, Jealousy, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 19:24:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10556396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Fíli stakes his claim in a pub.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Little_Red](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Red/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for little-red-83’s “Bard/Fili with jealousy” request on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/159276160255/ok-i-dont-know-if-i-am-doing-this-right-but-for). ([For my bingo card](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/158937866370/fic-bingo))
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Kíli punctuates the end of his song with a drunken cheer, mug thrust high in the air, and Fíli clinks his own against it, sloshing beer all over both of them. The table below erupts in applause and roaring laughter—it was one of their better stories, the lyrics courtesy of Bilbo. They came to the tavern alone, save for a few bodyguards watching from the corner, and the Men treat both dwarves as though they’ve never seen such an act. Kíli throws his head back to down a quick gulp, then calls, “How ‘bout another, mates?”

The crowd hollers its agreement. Kíli locks his arm around Fíli’s, grinning and asking, “Which one now?”

Fíli doesn’t answer at first; he’s been distracted all night, and a new arrival draws his eye. Over at the bar, the smarmy lackey of the old Master is completely ignoring the Dwarven guests in favour of staring down another patron.

Bard, lounging back in a private booth, looks quite worthy of the attention. He doesn’t seem to notice Alfrid at all, instead smiling up at Fíli, supportive and encouraging. When Kíli nudges Fíli in the side, Bard calls over the din, “Do another, boys!”

Normally, Fíli would leap to oblige. But he hasn’t got enough alcohol in him yet to blur his other emotions, and Alfrid’s brought his jealousy back to life. While the rest of the crowd’s learned that Bard’s taken, Alfrid looks ready to eat Bard up. His inherent ugliness only makes his vulgar expression all the lewder.

Fíli detangles himself from Kíli and shrugs, “Sorry; you’re on your own for the next round.”

“Aww,” Kíli whines, and the audience voices its boos. Fíli hops off the table anyway, landing unsteadily on the floor with more beer spilled down his arm and the beginning of a headache. Kíli recovers quickly, as he always does, whistling to reroute the attention and breaking into another rousing verse from Bilbo’s many letters.

Fíli stumbles his way onto the bench at Bard’s lone table, small enough that it can barely hold both their mugs when Fíli puts his down.

Bard says, “I was enjoying that—” but he cuts off when Fíli abruptly turns into him and straddles his lap, hiking up to press a firm kiss against his mouth. He’s ludicrously warm and tastes only of beer, but Fíli enjoys both sensations. He always does. Bard’s lips are pleasantly smooth, soft, his stubble scratching, but not as much as another dwarf’s would. Fíli’s never seen another dwarf that got to him quite the way Bard does. He lets his greedy hands stray down Bard’s chest as he thrusts his tongue between Bard’s lips, prying them open; Bard moans and lets him in. 

They share a wet, messy kiss, and then Fíli withdraws to nip Bard’s jaw. Bard murmurs huskily around him, “Someone’s feisty.”

Fíli stops just long enough to glance over his shoulder. Alfrid’s still perched on his bar stool, leaning so far forward that it’s a wonder he hasn’t toppled right over. His lust-laden stare has warped into a glower, and Fíli returns a scathing look before coming back to bite Bard’s chin. Bard groans, arching into it, and Fíli slides his hands beneath Bard’s coat. The clothes he wears beneath are so _thin_ , not all armoured like a dwarf, but flimsy and easy to feel through. Giving Bard’s muscular form a firm squeeze, Fíli grunts, “I just want the whole of Dale to know their most eligible dragonslayer is taken.”

Bard snorts, “You think a lot of people want a raggedy, impoverished single father, hm?”

“Not impoverished anymore,” Fíli corrects, even though Bard hardly took any of the Erebor gold that was due him, instead putting it all back into the town. He still looks ragged, but Fíli’s wild life made that his favourite style. Bard’s kids are getting older, but Fíli likes playing with them when he can.

Fíli likes just about everything in their once-saviour, and he knows just how many others agree with him. Half the point of coming down for a visit was to spend more time together, and they didn’t take a night off from running two kingdoms and three kids to not make out over beer. He grinds his hips forward into Bard’s lap, dragging along the growing bulge and already fantasizing about riding it. His fingers trace the belt around Bard’s waist, and he purrs in Bard’s ear, “Besides, you’re _hot_. You have to know that. That greasy git Alfrid’s been eyeing you up since he walked in...”

Bard lifts a brow and all but laughs, “Alfrid? Alfrid hates me.”

“Only because you won’t sleep with him.”

Bard chuckles, “You’re ridiculous,” and finally lifts his hands to Fíli’s waist, helping guide Fíli through each new roll of them. They grind steadily together to the beat of the crowd clapping and stomping to Kíli’s song. Fíli finds the buckle of Bard’s belt. Bard rubs their noses together and mutters, “But if it earns me a great night, I guess I won’t complain.”

Fíli grins and jerks the belt free, surging into another kiss.


End file.
